I’ve been “on-ice,” so to speak, for the past five years and four months. I was heavily medicated with high doses of lithium for my bipolar manic episodes. Even while unable to write my own name during that time I practiced mindfulness, meditation, and opposite action. The tools I learned at many an institution during those years served me well. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) quite literally saved my life even when my body eventually became toxic to the lithium. My accelerated transition from lithium to Seroquel caused my mind to open up in such a way as to unravel the mysteries of the universe itself, and our oneness with it. Doctor Edgar Mitchell’s awakening during his Apollo 14 mission’s return to Earth in the early 1970s mirrors my own experience nearly verbatim. I had no prior knowledge of him, Alan Watts, Delores Cannon or others who are all well known for their mind-bending views regarding the tapestry of our universal, cosmic oneness.
“Last night, Darth Vader came down from Planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn’t take Lorraine out, that he’d melt my brain.”
— Crispin Glover as George McFly in Back To The Future, 1985
Struggling with my bipolar (manic-depression) has taken me from superhero to supervillain in a roller coaster ride of vibrant realities and darkest of delusions. Three months ago I was ready push forward and start taking on contract work again. Then suddenly my medication was adjusted due to a major health risk due to lithium toxicity. Lithium was my mood stabilizer for thirteen years, and when it was removed my brain decided to take me on a carnival cruise to hell and back. The delusions of grandeur and hallucinations were glaring signs that something was going awry.
I checked in with my psychiatrist much more often, and within just a few days in this altered state I was rushed to the hospital. Three or four days later I found myself back at The Carolina Center for Behavioral Health; my home away from home. I was so relieved when I realized where I was. I cannot stress how important the generously kind staff and friends I’ve made on the units there. I’ve been there six or seven times since 2018, and I am so thankful for their care and attention to getting me stabilized. At one point my own psychiatrist was their fearless leader.
I also have Favor of Greenville to thank for the year I spent attending weekly noon meetings, nightly skills training, and visits to patients at The Carolina Center to share my experiences. Every connection made strengthened my will to continue to fight and win my battle with bipolar. It’s incredibly enlightening and humbling to hear others’ stories, and how well they line up with mine. I continue sharing my experiences giving hope to those who have just begun their own recovery.
By shedding light on our challenges we realize we’re all in this together. There is truly strength in our numbers. The purpose of me sharing my story gives me the opportunity to do my part in chipping away at stigma surrounding mental health. So many folks I’ve highly admired like my Uncle Bobby, Jim Carrey, Phil Tippett, Carrie Fisher, Richard Dreyfuss, Virginia Woolf, Sting, Buzz Aldrin, Winston Churchill, Linda Hamilton, David Harbour, Dick Cavett, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Ted Turner, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Frank Sinatra, Halsey, Francis Ford Coppola, Selena Gomez, and diagnosed posthumously are Edvard Munch, Vincent Van Gogh, and Jackson Pollock to name just a few, all fight the battle. There’s a couple of books I’ve added to my recommended to the right and down of this post that opened my eyes in the early days and weeks when I was first diagnosed at thirty-seven. I hope you enjoy them as I did.
It’s amazing how the creative mind and mental health challenges go hand in hand. Touched with Fire: Manic-Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament by Kay Redfield Jamison does a deep dive into the creative spark for so many artists throughout history. In An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness, also by Kay Redfield Jamison, she shares her own personal struggles with her mental health. Her words serve as a beacon for so many of us when we find ourselves heading into the dark side of our minds.
I’m thankful to say I’m doing quite well now and able to fully harness my creative lightning once again. I’ve dubbed my Seroquel my “Superman pills.”